


The Naughty List

by ShiTiger



Series: The Nightmare Prince [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Young Pitch Black (Guardians of Childhood)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 17:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9195536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiTiger/pseuds/ShiTiger
Summary: What if Pitch isn't the scary adult everyone thinks he is?  What if he is just a kid?  Here are a few short fics about the possibility.  Slash-suggested at times, but not the focus.





	

Nicholas St. North stroked his impressive beard as he eyed the name written at the top of the naughty list.  For once, it was not Jack Frost.  Nor any other child that he had seen over the years.  This year, the name at the top of the naughty list was **‘Pitch Black.’**

“Phil!”

The yeti raced into the room moments later, only to find the Guardian of Wonder buttoning his red jacket, and strapping a sabre to his belt.  “I am off to confront the Nightmare King.”  North frowned as yeti’s immediate protests drowned out his next words.  “Is fine, Phil.  Pitch Black is weakened.  I was once a Cossack!  I can defend myself in needed.  I will travel alone, and by globe. Still, if I have not returned by tomorrow evening, you have permission to summon other Guardians to my aid.”

* * *

North cursed under his breath as he stumbled along the dark passage.  Of course he would forget a flashlight in his haste.  Thankfully, there was enough moonlight coming in through the cracks and holes in the ceiling to ensure he didn’t step off the winding path.  The pathway turned around a blind corner, before opening into a wide room. 

The moonlight flowed into the Nightmare King’s lair in patches, leaving many areas dark and shadowed. North approached the ebony globe cautiously.  There were flickers of golden light, but they were faded.  Belief in the boogeyman was quite low.  This was a good thing, North thought.  It would mean Pitch would be unable to launch an attack on the children, or on the Guardians, until he recovered. 

The former bandit king moved slowly to ensure that his footsteps were as quiet as possible.  The dusty cages, dangling from the ceiling, creaked as the wind swept into the decrepit lair, bringing the November snow along with it. 

If Pitch was at full power, he’d have sealed out the snow, while still allowing a bit of light in.  The absence of night-mares was curious.  Perhaps they dissolved when the Nightmare King could no longer keep them fed with his dark energy.

In all his searching, North had yet to find the Guardian’s most feared adversary.  Torn between searching further, or returning home empty-handed, the man soon settled on the later.  This little puzzle could be pursued after Christmas.  Next time, he would be sure to bring Sandy along.  If anyone could track down the boogeyman, it would be the Guardian of Dreams.

The giant of a man turned to leave, but a hazy golden light – that he could have sworn wasn’t there moments before – beckoned to him from the shadows in the corner of the grand room.  As North tiptoed closer, he could see the light peaking from beneath a billowing curtain.

Steeling himself, the Guardian of Wonder brushed the dark fabric to the side, revealing an open doorway that led into a small room.  North ducked to avoid the low door frame, noting that the ceiling was a bit taller, but not by much.  The red-coated man sunk to his knees, his eyes locked on the tiny gold and black mare that pranced silently on the top of the nightstand directly across from him.  It didn’t seem malevolent. 

Taking his attention off the equine creature, the Russian took a moment to gaze around the small room.  It was almost child-sized.  There was a single bed against the wall by the nightstand, with a bookshelf lining the opposite wall.  It didn’t seem like there was much room for anything else.

Creeping forward on this hands and knees, North peered at the barely-illuminated figure sleeping under a thin grey blanket.  Ashen skin, slick ebony hair, and a very prominent nose – yes, it seems there were far more layers to the boogeyman than the Guardians had ever expected.

North nodded to himself as he finalized the decision in his mind.  The boy barely stirred as he scooped the young nightmare prince into his arms, careful to keep the faded blanket wrapped around his seemingly malnourished body.  A soft whiny drew his attention back to the golden night-mare that was kicking her hooves in protest.  “I would not forget you, little one,” the Guardian of Wonder whispered, holding out an outstretched palm for her to climb in to. 

With the nightmare snuggled close to the child in his arms, North backed out of the small room.  Soon they would be safe and sound at the North Pole, and he could make sure young Pitch got a decent meal. 

* * *

Pitch attempted to glare daggers into the back of North’s head as he turned to talk to the recently arrived E. Aster Bunnymund about his new prisoner.  The fairy sitting nearby was next on his list of people to hate.  She hadn’t stopped smiling at him since she’d flown in the window twenty minutes earlier.  And he did not want to remember the feeling of her fingers searching his mouth for cavities.

At least Sandy was still absent.  The last thing he needed was his true opposite attempting to get friendly with him.  And no, he was not jealous or in awe of the sandman’s amazing abilities.  Nightmares should be much more powerful than silly little dreams.  Pitch had even gone so far as to steal the small man’s dreamsand to prove he could overpower the guardians… it just hadn’t worked out exactly the way he’d originally planned.

 “He can’t be the Guardian of Fear, North.  Look at the little tyke.  He can’t be more than 12 years old,” Bunny insisted, leaning around the larger guardian to peer at Pitch.

“I’m 15!  I’m a teenager, not a child,” Pitch hissed, crossing his arms impertinently across his chest. 

“Yes!  I’m no longer the youngest!” Jack whooped, throwing an unwanted arm around the nightmare prince.

“I died 200 years before you, Frost,” Pitch argued, failing in his attempt to shove the white-haired boy off.  Oh, how he HATED being without his powers. 

“Not the youngest!  Not the youngest!”

“When my full powers return, I WILL show you all the meaning of fear,” the youth promised, inwardly cursing his currently youthful voice. 

“You may stay here as long as it takes, little one.  And I vow that we will help you become part of the family, and someday become a guardian yourself!” North announced, hitting the table with enthusiasm. 

“Noooooooooo!”

**Author's Note:**

> Headcannon: A young Pitch would have likely been malnourished during his lifetime, and now looks younger than he truly is. He's been hiding his age by using his powers to create the guise of an adult. Naturally, he feels the need to be in control as much as possible, as he had a short, unfortunate life where everything felt terrifying and uncertain.


End file.
